


Protection

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and Jim discuss the nature of protection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protection

**Author's Note:**

> All right. I promise, I wouldn't have sent this out, if I didn't think it would look better than the last one. (Not that it could look worse) I wrote this on a completely different program, so hopefully, formatting will go a lot better this time! If you can read it, enjoy. Oh yeah. No beta, as usual. Read at your own risk! 

## Protection

by AngieJean

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly's. Paramount's Whoever else's got a claim on 'em. Not mine.

* * *

"Chief?" 

"What?" 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" 

James Ellison looked at his lover critically, actually taking a moment to cock his head, and change perspective a couple of times before answering, finally. 

"It looks like you're standing on your head in the corner." 

"Hmm. You _are_ a detective. Cop of the Year two years running. So if you say I'm standing on my head in the corner, well, then I guess I probably am." 

"Smart ass." 

"Well, not that I've ever heard. Most of the smart stuff comes from the other end." 

All of this was being said with a perfectly straight face as Blair Sandburg studied his lover critically, and James Ellison eyed _his_ lover, wondering if he was going to present a danger to himself in his current, mentally unbalanced state. 

"Blair." 

"Yes?" 

"Why, exactly, are you standing on your head in the corner at..." He glanced at the clock. "Five fifty-four in the morning?" 

Sighing, Blair finally flipped himself over, standing with a grace and ease that Jim couldn't help envying from his vantage point of early forty-something. 

"It's a yoga position, Jim." If possible, Jim looked even more confused. 

"When did you start doing yoga, Chief?" 

"I did yoga for years, but I haven't had the time lately. It just didn't seem right up there in the top ten behind the serial killers, mad bombers, and wacked out wilderness psychos we've enjoyed lately." 

Blair flopped down on the bed beside his Sentinel, and curled up next to him, the big man moving instinctively to make room for the smaller one, and pulling his arm protectively around the lithe body. 

"All right. We're going to play twenty-questions this morning. What made you decide to start up yoga again, at this particular moment in time?" Blair was running his fingers idly up and down the sensitive line delineating the Sentinel's pecs, and Jim hissed a little before moving his hand up to flatten Blair's hand against his stomach. 

Blair sighed, and rested his chin on top of their joined hands, Jim's other hand coming up, almost involuntarily, to stroke the frizzy, sleep-rumpled curls. 

"It wasn't just the yoga that I was thinking about doing," he admitted finally. Jim looked down at his lover silently, waiting for him to continue. "I...Well, I've been thinking a lot lately, and-" He broke off, and set his head back down, allowing Jim to pet him for a few moments before starting over again. 

"Do you remember the Kilton case a couple of weeks ago?" Jim stiffened, his hand going still instantly, though it didn't lift from it's place on Blair's head. 

"Yes," he answered, his voice strained. "What about it?" Blair was quiet again for long moments, taking his turn at petting Jim, stroking his hands over his Sentinel's skin in a soothing rythmn that relaxed the other man by degrees, until he no longer resembled an oak plank underneath Blair. He contined hesitantly, knowing very well how what he was about to say was going to be taken by his Blessed Protector. 

"If you hadn't come along, he would have killed me. If he hadn't been so damned arrogant, he would have killed me before you ever got there, anyway." 

Yep, definately the wrong thing to say. Jim was doing his impression of the oak plank again. 

"I-I know. I should have been there for you, and I-I was late," Jim stuttered quietly, hurt echoing in his voice. 

"Jim, that's not what I meant. That's not why I brought it up." 

"Why then?" 

"Jim, you can't be with me every minute of every day. I have got to be able to take care of myself enough that I don't get killed while you go out to get coffee one day. Not to mention the fact that..." The rest of his words were mumbled so softly that Jim couldn't catch them, Sentinel hearing or not. 

"Not to mention the fact...?" Blair's head became immovable from it's spot on his chest, and he mumbled, only a little louder, 

"Not to mention the fact that you deserve a partner you don't have to take off rescuing every five minutes." 

Jim sat up suddenly, unceremoniously relieving Blair of his warm, if somewhat hard cushion. 

Blair squeaked a little, and settled off to the side as Jim looked him over like he was an interesting species of insect that had hitched a ride on his shirt somewhere. 

"What the hell are you talking about, Sandburg?" 

Jim's morning was going downhill. Sandburg had obviously lost what little of his mind he still had sometime in the night. He was still tired, and could use a couple more hours of sleep. He desperately wanted, barring the sleep, a cup of coffee, at nuclear strength levels. But more than anything, he wanted his lover to start making some sense before Jim had to kill him personally. 

"I was doing the yoga to loosen me up a little, and regain some of my flexibility. I'm going to start taking self-defense classes at the Department." 

"The hell you are." Jim almost clapped a hand over his damnably runaway mouth. He hadn't meant for that _ever_ to be said aloud, and especially not to Blair, who was currently looking like a major lightning strike was headed towards Jim Ellison's ass. 

"The hell I'm not," Blair replied in a dangerously sweet tone. Jim almost cowered a little. 

He really hadn't meant to spit that out, but it had been his first, instinctive reaction, when he remembered some of the attitudes from the cops outside of Major Crimes. He was terrified that as "Ellison's little Hippie Fag boyfriend", Blair would be seriously hurt by some of the cops that taught the self-defence courses. 

"Uh. I just meant that...Well...I-I'd rather teach you myself." 

_Great save, Ellison_ Blair's face brightened considerably, and he smiled at his lover. 

"Jim, that's so sweet." His eyes grew serious as Jim watched, and took on what he referred to, with no small amount of terror, as "the Manic Researcher's Gleam". 

"Maybe this is some kind of a Sentinel thing. A territorial imperative that won't let anyone else train your guide. Maybe having another person teaching me self-defense would be too much like encroaching on your territory, and-" 

It never ceased to amaze Jim that Blair constantly, and easily, referred to himself as Jim's "territory". A part of Jim's possesions just as much as anything else within his sphere of influence. And the terrible thing that he almost refused to admit to himself, even late at night, when he held his Guide's warm, sweaty body close to his after passionate lovemaking, was that it was true. 

That was exactly the way he saw Blair in his heart. As _his_. Unequivocably and completely his. 

Blair seemed to know that, and he didn't mind. Seemed, in fact, to revel in it, when he was, arguably, the most independent, free-thinking person Jim had ever had the pleasure to meet. A complete paradox. 

"Maybe you're right Chief," he said, softly, running his hands, almost reverently over Blair's side, and down across the swell of his buttocks, catching his attention unerringly. "You do always call me your Blessed Protector, after all." Blair pulled away slowly. 

"Yes, I do," he said somberly. "And maybe that's a role that you take a little too seriously sometimes. Jim, you aren't Superman, and I'm a grown man. I _need_ to learn to take care of myself, for my own sense of sufficiency, if nothing else." 

That was something Jim understood. He had spent his life trying to make himself relient on no one. Leaving home at a young age to join the army, and quickly becoming Captain of his unit. His lone wolf attitude in Vice. His failed marrige to Carolyn. 

_You don't need me, Jimmy. You never really needed me, and I can't live without that._ His resistance to taking a partner when paired with Jack. 

Yes, he understood the need to lean on no one. 

"I-I like taking care of you, Chief." Jim said this with a bowed head, more than a little ashamed by the archaic attitude that he couldn't help. 

A hand lifted his chin, and he found himself looking into bright, Sapphire blue eyes. 

"I know you do. And I love having you do it. But sometimes, I just need to feel that you are taking care of me because you _want_ to, and not because you _have_ to." 

Jim nodded. 

"So you'll teach me?" The hint of puppy dog eagerness was back in his voice again. 

"Yeah, I'll teach you, Sandburg." Blair grinned, and swung his leg over, so that he was straddling Ellison's waist. 

"This is gonna be great!" 

_Yeah, great,_ Jim thought ruefully, not at all looking forward to being the one that put bruises on that beautiful body. 

_Better you than some neandrethal down at the precinct that would half-kill him before they finished with him._ That was absolutely, one hundred percent right. If Blair could live with it, so could he. 

Jim reached up, and cradled Blair's face, pulling him down slightly, as he lifted his head to meet him half-way. He brushed his lips chastely against Blair's for a second, before pulling back, and running his tongue over the full swell of his bottom lip, nipping softly until Blair opened his mouth, his tongue meeting Jim's eagerly. 

A long moment passed before Jim pulled back, and surveyed Blair, noting, with satisfaction, the slightly swollen lips, and clouded eyes, that looked over at him dazedly. 

"You know that I love you, Blair." It wasn't exactly a question, wasn't exactly a statement, but whatever it was, it _was_ unusual. Jim very rarely came out with spontaneous declarations of love, responding to Blair's, but almost never volunteering. 

It meant so much to Blair when he did. 

"I know, you do, Jim," Blair said, softly. 

"You can stand on your head doing yoga all day. You can learn self-defense, or let me guard you forever. You can work at the Department, or we could take off to Tanzania tomorrow. Nothing matters, as long as I'm with you. You'll always be my partner. My Guide. My love. Always." 

Blair's mouth fell open, his eyes stinging mercilessly. That had been the single, most loving, romantic thing Jim had ever said to him. He had no idea where it had come from, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about it. Four years of trying to teach Jim to open his mouth without an interrogation session were finally starting to work. 

"I would never take you away from Cascade, Jim. This is your tribe, and you need to be here. I'm your Guide, and wherever you go, I'll be there with you." Blair laid back down, his playfulness gone in the light of the awe he felt for Jim's love. 

Silence reigned for long moments, and Blair was just beginning to think Jim had drifted off to sleep. 

"Chief, I'd follow you around the world, but if you think I'm gonna stand on my head doing those Yoga exercises while we train, you're out of your mind." 

Blair's laughter pealed loudly across an early morning springtime sky, and his lover smiled at the sound. 

_No matter how well he learns to fight, or what else he does in life, I'll always be his Blessed Protector._

Jim pulled Blair close, and closed his eyes for a couple of well-deserved extra hours of sleep. 

* * *

End

 


End file.
